To Wear Heart Upon Sleeve
by Evergreene
Summary: The story behind Nasir wearing Agron's coat. Agron/Nasir


To Wear Heart Upon Sleeve

A cool wind ruffled the fine hairs on Mira's forearms as she stood watching the morning sun rise over the walls of the ruined temple where the rebels had made their base. She shivered. Though she knew the fierce heat of day would not be long in coming, she wished nevertheless that the newly-born sun would hasten in its journey across the pale blue sky, and so remove the faint chill that hung pervasive in the air.

Wrapping her arms about herself, she looked down at the scene before her. She stood at the top of the rough stone steps that descended towards the main courtyard of the temple. Below her was row upon row of men, former slaves of Rome and gladiators both, each with weapons in hand and training hard to improve their skills in battle. Grunts and hisses sounded as fierce blows were struck, finding shield and flesh in equal measure, as those weathered in war and combat taught those less experienced, so helping all to avoid a bloodied end.

Intent upon the scene, Mira was almost knocked off her feet as the solid bulk of a muscled shoulder smacked into her from behind, sending her staggering against a pillar. Someone swore loudly, and Mira regained her feet to see Agron pause beside her, rubbing irritably at his arm.

'You conceal great strength in limbs slim as babe's,' he grumbled.

Mira reached up to massage her own shoulder. 'Keep eyes on path and suffer no pain,' she retorted pointedly, knowing that a bruise would darken her skin by the time the sun next dawned.

Agron grunted. 'Other matters occupy me this day. Apologies.' He moved to continue on his way, but Mira reached out a hand to him, halting him mid-step.

'You lately seem of troubled mind,' she observed.

Agron shrugged. 'It is nothing,' he said, his gaze darting quickly towards the battling warriors and then around the courtyard as though he was searching for something.

Mira eyed him closely, noting the slight frown that appeared on his face when he failed to find what he sought. 'Yet your countenance betrays a truth hidden. I would have you speak and share burden.'

Agron was silent for a moment, before he finally dealt her a quick glance. 'It is Nasir,' he said shortly, returning his gaze to the yard.

Mira raised an eyebrow, surprised to hear it was thoughts of the young Syrian that darkened the former gladiator's mind. She had noted of late that the pair of them, Agron and Nasir, had appeared more than taken with each other. What she and many others had at first deemed a passing fancy of Agron's seemed to have quickly deepened into close friendship and more, with the two often to be found in the other's company, sharing food, drink and intimate conversation. Wagers had even been placed by some amongst the rebels on when the two would begin to share quarters. 'I did not expect Nasir's name to fall from lips,' she admitted. 'Why does he trouble you?'

'The little shit is a fucking thief!' The words seemed to burst from Agron out of nowhere, and Mira took a step back as he launched into a tirade that broke over her like an angry ocean wave. 'He takes my clothing and wears it as his own with not word of request or even fucking apology! I find myself absent proper garb for battle or for rest, and am forced to beg fucking favour from others to equip myself proper, or else go without, even as chill morning winds begin to bite like dogs. Look! Even now, he wears my favoured robe!'

Looking in the direction of Agron's out-flung fingers, Mira saw Nasir emerge from a shadowed doorway of the temple, and begin skirt around the main courtyard, taking care to avoid the men still grouped at its centre. The bandages that wrapped around his chest were clearly visible, even under the familiar-looking robe that Mira now noticed was slung about his shoulders. Aware of Agron shifting angrily beside her, Mira had to stifle a smile as she noticed that the tattered garment was clearly far too long for Nasir's slight frame and trailed almost to the ground, its ragged ends only just clearing the red dirt of the yard.

She turned back to Agron, fighting against the knowing quirk that threatened her lips. 'And how comes he to wear your robe?' she enquired, only to realise that Agron was still fixated on the other man, his sharp gaze following close as Nasir located a barrel of dried meats, bent down and began to unpack the contents of the barrel onto a long wooden tray. Mira cleared her throat, then was forced to do the same again until Agron finally startled, apparently only just noticing her continued presence. 'Apologies,' he muttered, wrenching his eyes away from the apparently captivating sight of Nasir at work. 'Distraction beckoned in the form of he who bears what is rightfully mine.'

Privately wondering to herself whether Agron's attention had surrendered more to anger or ardor, Mira repeated her question. 'Why does Nasir don garments that are not his own?'

Agron's face darkened as he considered the ex-slave. 'I know not.'

'Reason must stand.'

'I tell you, I know not! He forsakes all else in favour of mine, there being no other reason than to drive me to fucking madness!'

A thought suddenly struck Mira and she leant forward to look more closely at Nasir. She frowned. 'What clothing has Nasir? Other than that now upon his back?'

Agron shrugged. 'Again, I know not.'

'He did not bear belongings from the villa of his dominus. Perhaps he wished to avoid memory of former life.'

'With good reason,' Agron replied, his mouth twisting in distaste.

Mira looked searchingly at Agron, a question at her lips. 'Thought rises. Upon arrival here, did you see fit to clothe Nasir from our stores?'

Agron shook his head. 'Bearing such grim wound, Nasir was in no state to dwell on such a matter.'

'Then after? When wound had begun to heal? You ensured he had garments other than those borne as Roman slave and sufficient to keep him warm even on coldest night?'

Agron's brows furrowed. About to reply, he opened his mouth, then closed it again. He cleared his throat. 'Time was short,' he started, shifting on his feet, 'and Spartacus needed…'

Mira interrupted him. 'I ask because a newcomer such as Nasir would lack knowledge of how we seize garments from fallen enemies to provide for our own.'

Agron was looking uncomfortable now. 'My duty is not to garb those who are without,' he said defensively. 'Such task falls to others of our company.'

With the true oblivion of the man standing before her becoming clear, Mira's ire rose. 'Perhaps you expected Nasir to purchase suitable garments when in search of Naevia?' she asked acerbically. 'Before fleeing for life itself and suffering near deathly wound.'

Agron's mouth dropped open. 'You seek to place blame on _my_ shoulders? What of your own lack to provide for Nasir, one whom I have heard you call friend?' His gaze narrowed and he stepped towards her. 'Or was that fucking lie?'

Mira moved forward until she was toe to toe with Agron, her face bare inches from his own. Reaching out, she shoved him harshly in the chest. 'All among us know that it is _you_ who have provided for Nasir in all manner of things- food, training, company, a space to make his own. If you failed to provide for him in this, reason suggests he would believe there were no garments to spare!'

Agron straightened up to his full height and glared down at her. 'He need only have asked. I would gladly have given him what help was needed to secure proper clothing.'

'Nasir asks little and offers much since joining the rebellion! Why do you imagine he would ask for this?'

Not seeming to have an answer, Agron instead went on the offensive, his voice rising in anger. 'Permission should yet have been sought before taking what was not his. If need pressed, he should have spoken and not resorted to thievery!'

Mira eyed him suspiciously, her mind turning over both what she knew and what she suspected about Agron and his mounting regard for the newest rebel, particularly when coupled with his fury at what to her seemed a relatively minor offence. 'Your anger in this is not as great as you profess,' she accused him suddenly. 'It is frustration that drives you to bluster and rage.' She placed a hand on his arm, suddenly sympathetic. 'Do matters not progress with desired speed between yourself and Nasir?'

Agron wrenched his arm away. 'You speak of what is not your concern,' he hissed. He turned on his heel. 'Spartacus beckons,' he said over his shoulder and stalked off abruptly.

Mira smiled, knowing by Agron's reaction that she had struck on full truth. 'Your affection is returned,' she called after him. 'It is clear as hand raised before face!'

Though Agron's shoulders tightened, meaning that he had heard her, he did not deign to turn around and instead continued on his march across the yard. Mira was amused to see that his head turned automatically towards Nasir as he passed, with the result that he stumbled straight into the midst of the still battling warriors. Curses rang out from both sides as Agron fought to extricate himself, with Agron's the loudest of all as he attempted to wrench himself free.

Mira watched after him, considering the conversation she had just had. Her eyes fell on Nasir, who had straightened from his task as Agron's shouts carried over the yard as he bellowed curses foul enough to make Mira wince. Nasir, however, smiled before returning to his duties, casting a look that could only be called fond after Agron as he finally managed to vanish from sight inside the temple. Mira chewed on her lip thoughtfully. Clearly, it was past time that Agron and Nasir revealed how they truly felt to each other and acted upon it. But with Nasir too unsure of himself and his new position to reveal his feelings, and Agron too wary of revealing that he even _had_ feelings of such a sort, she was suddenly certain that what was required was for someone else to play a part in uniting them.

* * *

Mira wasted no time in her design to bring hidden feelings to the fore. All depended, however, on the cooperation of one man, Crixus, who, much to her regret, was not usually of the sort to involve himself in such affairs. So, as she gathered her courage beneath the bright light of the mid-morning sun to make her approach, she was relieved to see Naevia sitting beside Crixus as they together watched the constant activity of training in the yard. Nodding a greeting to them both, she turned to the former gladiator. 'Crixus,' she said formally. 'I would have words.'

Crixus grunted. 'Speak then.'

'I ask favour granted.' When Crixus simply stared at her impassively, she continued on. 'Watchful eyes observe that two of our company grow closer with each passing day.'

'Indeed. And who are they who Fortune so favours?'

'Say I that Agron is one, and surely you can guess the other.'

Crixus remained silent, but Naevia spoke for him, a light sparking in her usually darkened eyes. 'You speak of Nasir.'

Crixus' eyes fell to where Agron and Nasir were currently facing one other in the main courtyard, armed with a gladius each and poised to begin attack. 'Why should I care who the German fucks, except to pity the boy for falling foul of Agron's roving gaze?'

Naevia rested a hand on Crixus' arm. The gladiator stilled beneath her, the touch still unfamiliar after long separation. 'A gaze that has settled on one whom saved my life,' she murmured. 'I would see Nasir brought to happiness.'

Crixus snorted. 'Sufficient reason to spare him the attentions of the fucking German.'

Naevia's eyes darted to Agron and Nasir, then back to Mira. 'And you are certain Nasir desires this?'

Pleased that Naevia appeared to be her ally in the matter, Mira nodded. 'His eyes linger too long on Agron's form for it to be otherwise.' She tilted her head back to the warring pair. 'He wears Agron's robe,' she said meaningfully.

Naevia glanced back at the pair, her eyebrows raised, and, when she looked back at Mira, her lips were pressed in a smile. 'Then reveal plan.'

Mira crouched down beside the pair and lowered her voice. 'Agron is possessive and easily brought to jealousy,' she confided. 'When riled, his tendency is to take back what he deems his, whether that is his clothing, or the one who wears it.'

Crixus scowled. 'Cease your fucking riddles and speak truth. What would you have of me?'

Mira grinned. 'I would have your cloak.'

A second passed, then Naevia let out a short laugh, a sound as bright as it was rare, as she realised Mira's intent. Crixus, focused as always on Naevia when in her presence, turned to her, dark eyes searching for the source of her amusement. Her eyes lit bright with the same mischief as Mira's, Naevia reached out and placed a hand against his cheek. Caressing the rough jaw, she leant forward to whisper into his ear.

All at once, Crixus let out a harsh bark of laughter and turned to Mira, his eyes appraising. 'You are a cruel woman.'

'With matters of the heart only,' she countered lightly.

'Matters of cock, more like,' he retorted. 'Very well. Seek cloak from chamber and do with it what you will.'

Mira bowed her head and, with another flashing grin, straightened to her feet and was gone, disappearing amongst the crowds of people who lingered along the confines of the temple walls.

Behind her, Crixus turned back to Naevia and began trailing his hand up and down her long, lean thigh. 'It seems we shall soon have some sport,' he said dryly. 'Were my heart not hardened to him, I would almost pity the German.'

Naevia lay back against him and nuzzled her cheek against his chest. 'A feeling that is foreign to you. You have yet to hold Agron in warm regard.'

'Because of him, I almost lost my heart.'

'You did not. I am here.'

'It does not negate his actions, nor intent.'

Naevia reached a hand up to his face. 'Cease talk of times dark. Besides, if it pleases you, tomorrow you may well see Agron discomfited.'

'Aye.' Crixus's lips curled as he turned his head to watch Agron and Nasir as they came at each other, Agron shouting rough words of advice as he attacked again and again, relentless in his intensity. 'Agron will fall from lofty perch when his own heart is the one threatened.'

* * *

Mira cornered Nasir in a little-visited corridor of the temple soon after the mid-day meal. Calling his name, she saw him wince as his eyes fell upon the thick wad of bandages she clutched in her hand. With an apologetic smile, she hurried forward and caught at his arm, dragging him into a quiet room off the corridor. Changing the bandages that bound his wound was imperative to its clean healing, but it was not something that Nasir favoured. He had confided to her once that he believed it a punishment devised by the gods to warn people against injury in the first place.

Sitting Nasir down on a low bench, she pushed back the long robe that he had yet to shed, holding back a smile as she did so. She then unwrapped the bandages with nimble fingers, and carefully removed the wad of cloth that covered the burnt flesh. Pleased to see that the material was unstained that day, she pressed her fingers lightly against the slowly healing skin, causing Nasir to hiss at the cold touch.

'Apologies,' she said, putting aside the old bandage and beginning to layer a new one over the wound.

'It is no matter,' he replied with a wry smile. 'A necessity…'

'…but an evil one,' she finished for him, tucking the end of the bandage into itself and pinning it there. She then helped tug Agron's robe back over Nasir's shoulders, knowing that his movement was still restricted in some ways, though he rarely revealed so amongst the men. 'Your robe is of a fine weave for a former slave,' she commented, fingering it casually.

'It is Agron's,' he admitted to her. 'Sadly I lack proper garment. I know not if it is the mountainous climes or my wound, but I find of late that I feel any chill as though it is a blizzard come early.' He sobered, his eyes falling to his hands as he twisted the ends of the robe between his fingers. 'Yet I worry that Agron is displeased with my wearing it. He was short with me during training this morning.'

Mira patted his shoulder. 'Our Agron is the possessive type, even with his clothing.'

Nasir huffed a soft laugh. 'I have noticed.'

'Perhaps best solution is to find a warm body to heat you instead.' Watching Nasir carefully, she was delighted to see a faint blush stain his cheeks.

'I sadly lack such a thing at this present time,' Nasir replied. He smiled, sharing the jest willingly, yet his eyes had narrowed, and she knew he was watching her carefully, looking for any sign that she might know the truth of his heart in such matters.

She rose to her feet quickly. 'I speak too forward. Apologies, I mean no harm. But set worry aside. Remedy shall be found before the sun hides itself behind the mountain that shelters us.'

Nasir dealt her a half-duck of his head as he rose to his feet, a remnant of his life as a slave that he seemed unable to forget. 'Your kindness knows no boundaries, lady.'

'You lack any idea,' she said slyly, watching after Nasir as he hurried off to resume his tasks.

* * *

Evening descended on a stronghold that was largely at peace. The usual night-time revelries had been put aside for a rare night of quiet conversation and drink. Mira knew that Spartacus approved of such nights. He considered it opportunity for bonds forged by quick emotion, a shared kill or a quick fuck, to deepen at a slower pace that would give them greater meaning, so strengthening friendships that might well bring dividends at a later time.

She herself sat with Naevia, propped against a column on a heap of rugs they had bundled together on the temple steps to protect them from the nip of cold stone. Caught in conversation and lulled by the sweet, hazy smells of smoke, wine and roasting meat, she had almost forgotten her plan to unite Nasir and Agron until the latter settled onto the mats beside her, meal in hand and countenance, for once, relaxed.

'A good evening,' Agron said, by way of greeting.

'It is,' she agreed. 'The gods bless us.'

Agron looked over the shadowed yard at the gathered groups of people. 'Have eyes fallen upon Nasir this night?' he enquired, seemingly going for nonchalance. 'I would exchange words with him.'

'Has the gladiator finally found his tongue?' Mira asked, feigning amazement. 'A great triumph!' She leaned closer to Agron. 'Do not let achievement go to waste. Find Nasir and tell him of your heart. Unless you still are angered by his thievery.'

Agron grinned. 'The fucking gods have finally seen fit to smile upon me in this regard. I found clothes returned to chambers some hours back. It seems that Nasir has found other means of outfitting himself.'

Naevia interrupted then. 'If you seek Nasir, remain seated,' she said, with a soft wink at Mira. 'Promise was made by him to share drink. He will be here shortly, if you so desire to wait.'

Agron ducked his head in a nod, dimples creasing his face in one of his rare smiles. 'If company is welcomed, I shall do so. I would not have a night such as this go to waste.'

The quiet tread of footstep upon stone made the three of them turn as one. Crixus approached, bearing three cups. Giving Agron his usual glare, he handed a cup each to Mira and Naevia, keeping the other for himself.

Agron raised his brows. 'Am I not worthy to be served so with wine?'

'I would fall upon fucking dagger before I served one from east of the Rhine.'

Agron chuckled, apparently in too good a mood at the thought of talking to Nasir to rise to Crixus' insults. He leant back on his elbows and stretched his legs out before him. 'For this night only, I will not hold you at fault for your oversight.'

Mira saw Crixus' eyes narrow as he settled down beside Naevia. 'You speak of service, Agron,' he commented, his tone deceptively light. 'Perhaps you will then share opinion. The boy Nasir-he is of fine form. Do you not agree?'

Mira followed the line of Crixus's eyes and found Nasir making his way across the courtyard to join them. She noticed at once that the night suited him. The golden light of the flickering candles placed strategically about the yard to offer light where it was needed fell on him most suitably, casting his features in fine relief. His hair seemed to drink in the shadows, becoming a thick curtain that fell upon the nape of his neck and shoulders. Even the bandage that covered his wound served only to provide flattering contrast to the colour he had developed of late, from longs hours spent training under the kiss of the sun. Around his shoulders was thrown a thick cloak that, Mira well knew, belonged to Crixus himself.

Agron's gaze had settled on Nasir also. 'I had thought your eyes reserved only for your woman,' he said to Crixus mildly. Mira noted that his voice, however, had taken on a sharp edge.

Crixus snorted. 'I admire beauty, whatever form it takes. Besides, mine are not the only eyes that fall on his body. The cloak the boy wears does him fine favour.'

Sure enough, many men and women were casting approving glances towards Nasir, with some gazes lingering long, others quick and appreciative as their owners' whispered comment to their companions. Mira frowned. Though she had wished to prick at Agron's jealous nature and so see him to action in his feelings for Nasir, things were not proceeding to plan. While she had meant for Agron to see Nasir in the other gladiator's cloak, she had not intended for Crixus himself to be present, particularly not with so many other eyes watching. Swiftly, she moved to stand, thinking it perhaps best to remove Nasir and his clothing to somewhere a little less provocative.

All at once, however, Agron sat up, his eyes narrowed. 'From where does Nasir's cloak come?' he demanded. 'Familiarity strikes, though I fail to place it.'

Naevia caught at Mira's hand, her eyes alight with a mischief than was in sharp contrast to Mira's own deepening misgivings. 'It looks warm,' she suggested slyly, tugging Mira back down and tucking the blankets closer about them both, so that Mira was prevented from rising to her feet.

Crixus chuckled. 'You speak true, Naevia. That cloak has warmed my body many a cold night.' His voice was loud and lusty, easily clear enough for the whole courtyard to hear, let alone Agron.

Trapped by Naevia, Mira winced. Crixus was pushing dangerously at Agron, far too much for her liking. Having borne witness to several spates between the two she was not eager to see another, particularly knowing that, for Agron at least, Nasir would without doubt act as tinder for already hazardous flames.

Agron's face had gone blank at Crixus's words. When he finally spoke, his voice was full of disbelief. 'Nasir wears your fucking cloak?'

Crixus leered at him. 'It suits him well, for such a little man.' Leaning over the two women, he bent closer to Agron, his next words for him alone. 'Curiosity rises to how he will show gratitude for such a generous gift.'

Agron stared at him, his face registering first a confusion that shifted quickly to comprehension, then to fury and a wild anger. Around them, silence had descended in the courtyard as those present realised that upset was brewing between two of Spartacus's most trusted men, enemies in most all but the rebellion. Across the other side of the courtyard, Nasir had paused mid-step, aware that the atmosphere of the evening had changed. He looked up, his puzzled gaze automatically falling on Agron, who was frozen, tense, still and fierce as a beast upon the prowl.

The next moment, Agron had launched himself at Crixus with a feral howl, grasping hands reaching wildly for his throat. Wrapped in their blankets, Mira and Naevia were forced to roll out of the way to avoid being crushed as the solid bulk of the former gladiator landed nearly on top of them, with the heavy weight of Crixus pinned beneath. Caught off guard, Crixus lay stunned on the stone steps as Agron landed punch upon punch on his face and body, drawing blood with each blow. It was mere seconds, however, before Crixus had regained his equilibrium and was dealing out hits of his own, which served only to bring Agron to greater fury as the two of them rolled down the steps and onto the sand, scattering rebels right and left.

Mira scrambled to her feet, frozen in shock and consternation at the rapid upset of her plans. In a hidden recess of her mind, however, far from her better judgement, amusement lurked. If nothing else, the events of the evening had proved beyond all doubt that Agron's feelings for Nasir ran deeper than she had ever suspected.

'Agron! Crixus! Cease this madness!'

The clarion that was Spartacus' roar cut through the scene as the man himself dropped down into the courtyard and moved with swift strides so that he stood between the two gladiators. 'I said stop this!' he cried, arms raised high and palms flat out towards them both. 'Agron, Crixus, fall back! Now!'

Crixus dropped back, his mouth and temple bloodied. Agron, however, surged forward, intent on his rival, only to be met by the strong arms of the rebel leader wrapping around him, dragging him away. 'Take breath and seize control,' Mira heard Spartacus hiss as he forced Agron away from Crixus. 'Order will not be given again.'

Finally, sense seemed to return to Agron. He tore himself away from Spartacus' grip and stood panting, blood trickling from his nose, giving him a wild look as his head swung this way and that before his gaze finally settled on Nasir, who was standing stock-still on the other side of the yard, eyes dark and body tense.

Spartacus turned towards the watching crowds. 'This is ended,' he said bluntly. 'Everyone, about your duties. Now!'

Within seconds, the crowd had melted away into the darkness. The only person left standing in the flickering candlelight was Nasir, who seemed torn between a surmounting concern for Agron and a deeply entrenched obedience that was remnant of his former life. Concern appeared to win out, however, and he remained where he was, seemingly reluctant to leave Agron, whose eyes had yet to leave him.

Spartacus made a sharp gesture at Crixus, who nodded slowly and backed out of the yard with a last feint at Agron. Naevia followed close on his heels, a smile playing about her face as she threw a glance back at Mira, who stood silent and waiting at the top of the stone steps.

Spartacus eyed Agron in silence until the other man finally raised eyes from Nasir to meet his gaze. 'Agron,' Spartacus said quietly. 'Retire to chambers. Eyes will not fall on you again before dawn breaks sky. Understand?'

Agron gave a short nod and left after delivering one last look at the watching Nasir, who began to step after him before he was halted by a sharp gesture from Spartacus. The rebel leader, however, was focused on someone else.

'Mira.'

Mira moved forward slowly, coming to a stop a few feet from Spartacus. He eyed her, face grave. 'This was of your doing, I suppose.'

She inclined her head, owning her actions. 'Apologies. It went further than intended. I thought only to-'

'I know what you thought. And it was foolish. Pitting Agron and Crixus against each other, even in jest? What madness took your mind?'

She forced herself to look him in the eye. 'I sought to bring happiness to a place it has long been absent. If I was wrong, then-'

Spartacus silenced her with a look. He turned to the other person present. 'Nasir!'

Nasir's head shot up and he locked gaze with Spartacus.

'Go to Agron,' Spartacus ordered. 'Wounds may bear treatment. I would have you look at them.' With a quick duck of his head, Nasir disappeared in the direction Agron had gone.

Mira was surprised to see Spartacus' eyes soften as he watched the former slave disappear into the darkness. 'Perhaps one good thing might come of this, at least,' she heard him murmur, almost to himself.

She stepped forward, daring to rest a soft hand on Spartacus' forearm. 'You know?'

Spartacus's usually stern face relaxed for a brief moment in a smile. 'How could I not? Agron knows not the meaning of subtlety when it comes to matters of heart.'

Mira paused. 'Not of cock?'

Spartacus looked again in the direction Nasir had gone, then back at Mira. 'Not this time.'

* * *

Mira softened her footsteps as she crept closer to Agron's chambers, a small space given privacy from passers-by with large, brightly-coloured rugs slung from a rope strung wall to wall. Carefully, she pressed her ear close to the rough fabric, hoping to hear more than one voice. Sure enough, two could be heard, one low, soft and filled with laughter, the other still raised in frustration.

'Once more will I say this and not again. Remove fucking cloak or have me accomplish task!'

Mira sighed. Whatever Agron had taken from the night's events, tact had clearly not been part of it.

There was the sound of scuffling from inside the tent, and Mira put her eye to a parting in the fabric only to quickly remove it, her cheeks reddening at the sight beyond. Far beyond divesting Nasir of Crixus' cloak, Agron seemed to be in the process of removing from Nasir anything that could possibly belong to anyone, though the amount of kisses he seemed set on delivering to Nasir's throat, lips and the nape of his neck seemed to be slowing him down in his task, despite his dedication to it. Nasir, for his part, appeared to be enjoying the attention, his eyes closed luxuriously as he pressed his body back against the former gladiator's with a smile upon his face.

About to creep away, Mira was startled at a soft _thump_ from beside her. She turned, only to realise that Agron, in his determination to remove Nasir's clothing, had hurled the offending items at the flimsy fabric wall of his chamber. They had hit the cloth that Mira was hiding behind, dragging it down to the ground and so revealing her to those previously ensconced by its folds.

Both Nasir and Agron stared at her, Nasir wearing little more than his bandage, and Agron in barely anything more.

She cleared her throat. 'I came to wish you both a good night.'

Nasir gave her a sudden, unexpected grin, teeth flashing bright in a kiss-bruised mouth. Agron looked to be in a similar state of dishevelment, his hair ruffled and standing on end, and a faint blush reddening his cheeks.

She coughed loudly and raised a hand to her ear as though struggling to hear something. 'Spartacus calls,' she said hurriedly, 'though you may not hear it.' She turned to hasten away, but was forced to a halt by the sound of her name.

'Mira! A moment.'

She turned, finding her own cheeks reddening as Agron whispered something into Nasir's ear that sent him off into a peal of laughter, before he disentangled himself from the other man and hurried to join her. He caught up at the end of the passageway, as bare as the day he was born, yet seemingly unconcerned about it. 'I would give you this,' he said, pushing a soft bundle into her hands.

Taking care to raise her hands rather than looking down with her eyes, Mira examined it. It was the cloak she had bestowed upon Nasir some hours past with the best of intentions. She turned it over in her hands, feeling its soft folds at her fingertips. She looked up at Agron. 'And what does fate have in hand for this? Shall I return it to its rightful owner?'

Agron shook his head. 'It has served purpose.' Glancing back at Nasir, he grinned suddenly. 'Burn it.'

Laughter bubbled out of Mira at the mischievous expression on Agron's face. Gathering the cloak between her hands, she nodded and turned to go.

'And Mira?'

She turned back.

'Nasir tells me that we owe you much gratitude.'

Mira raised an eyebrow at him. 'I ask no reward but that you keep eyes on path in future days. My shoulder still bears wound from your clumsiness this morning.'

Agron grinned at her. 'On path they will remain,' he promised solemnly, before turning on his heel and heading back towards his quarters, pausing on the way to rehang the fallen rugs.

Raising a hand to Nasir, Mira moved off down the hallway, satisfied. And when Nasir appeared at training the next morning cloaked in Agron's long robe, which did little to hide the reddening love-bites at his neck and throat, she smiled to herself and wrapped Spartacus' coat contentedly about her own shoulders.

END


End file.
